


The Always Puzzle of Living

by Polomonkey



Category: Humans (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse, Family Feels, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6937681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/pseuds/Polomonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo still loves his siblings but not enough to believe they’d do something about it. </p>
<p>Leo still loves his father but not enough to believe he’ll ever stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Always Puzzle of Living

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clotpolesonly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clotpolesonly/gifts), [Narlth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narlth/gifts).



> This fic was based on an idea given to me in a comment by clotpolesonly, and then solidified by Narlth who reminded me of Leo flinching away from George in the fourth episode. Gracious thanks to both!
> 
> Also huge thanks Amelia for the beta and Clea for ideas and Aggy for valuable Humans trivia (this fic truly was handed to me on a plate by all of you)
> 
> Written for h/c bingo using the prompts 'trust issues', 'bodyguards' and 'blackmail'

Leo is six and he loves his mother.

He loves his father too, in an abstract way, but he never sees him. His father is a scientist and he always seems to be locked away in the basement lab, tinkering with things that Leo isn’t allowed to see.

His mother is always around. Even if sometimes she cries, or shouts at the house staff, or wanders the grounds with a blank look on her face. Leo understands that it’s just the way she is and he adores her no less for that. On her good days she shows him where to find insects in the garden, or bakes him her special toffee pudding, or makes up songs to sing to him.

The good days get less and less frequent as time goes by but Leo still loves her. And trusts her above all else. She always looks after him. She’d never do anything to hurt him.

 

***

 

Leo is ten and he loves his siblings.

He doesn’t see his mother much nowadays but Mia does all the things she used to do and more. Better, even, because Mia never shouts or cries or goes blank on him. She’s always gentle, always patient. It’s Mia who he runs to when he falls over now; it’s Mia who tucks him in at night.

He decides that having siblings is much nicer than having parents. They always have time for Leo and they never turn him away. He trusts that they never will.

Fred builds him a swing in the garden.

Niska makes him a pillow fort in his bedroom.

Max piggybacks him round the house until they’re both weak with laughter.

Leo is happy and he wonders how he managed without them for so long.

 

***

 

Leo is thirteen and the world thinks he’s dead.

Perhaps he is dead. He doesn’t really know.

What he does know now is what’s in the basement lab. And he knows what it’s like to have the full beam of his father’s attention on him.

He wishes he didn’t know either of those things.

His body feels strange now, like it doesn’t belong to him anymore. He itches, all over. He can’t stop; scratching himself until he’s red raw and his father slaps his hand away.

His father does that a lot now. Whenever Leo protests about being made to lie on the hospital trolley for hours on end, having his knees tapped or his eyes examined, his father cuts him off with a slap. They’re light really, more taps than anything, but they’re enough to make Leo fall silent and still.

The examinations never seem to stop. _Tell me what happens when I press this. How do you feel when I do that? What happens when I tweak this?_

Leo doesn’t always have the answers but his father doesn’t like that. He gets very red in the face and looms over the trolley, hissing about how he gave Leo a second chance at life and does he think any other father in the world could have done that?

Leo feels very small when his father towers over him. Sometimes he tries to guess what his father wants to hear, just to be let go early, but it never works. His father keeps him in the lab all day long. He won’t even let Mia come in with lunch, just grabs the plates off her and shuts the door in her face. Leo doesn’t get to see any of his siblings until the evening, and by then he’s so exhausted from a day of prodding and poking that he has to go straight to bed.

Mia still tucks him in at night but it’s not the same. Because before there was always a chance that his mother might come along and sing him to sleep like she used to.

Now his mother’s dead. He trusted her not to hurt him and she betrayed that trust. She left him behind.

 

***

 

Leo is fifteen and he runs every day.

The grounds are big enough that he never has to venture further. When he runs he can shut his mind down completely, he can let himself be taken over by the wind rushing past and the rhythmic thump of his feet. When he runs he doesn’t think of anything – the lab, or his mother, or a car sinking underwater.

Or the bruises on his chest. On his arms, on his back. The way his father’s rage fills up a room, sudden and terrible.

His father is angry all the time and Leo doesn’t know why. He seems infuriated at the sight of Leo, like he can't bear to look upon his own creation. Like he can't see his son anymore in the Synth he created.

His siblings don’t know. Leo wears long sleeves and pretends the sunglasses are for his headaches. He tries not to leave his room too much anymore, and he ignores the knocks on the door until they stop.

The house is big. It’s not difficult to miss a soft cry of pain or the smack of flesh hitting flesh. Or the sound of someone crying at night.

Leo still loves his siblings but not enough to believe they’d do something about it.

Leo still loves his father but not enough to believe he’ll ever stop.

 

***

 

Leo is seventeen and he wakes up in Max’s bed.

His head is throbbing and when he raises his hands in front of his eyes, they’re bandaged.

His siblings are all sat around him.

“David…” he croaks out, because he’s long since lost the habit of calling him dad. “I remember…”

What does he remember? Eating breakfast in the kitchen. His father coming in. Shouting. A blow to the back of his head, another to his stomach. Falling. A plate smashing. His hands, cut up and bleeding. A boot coming at his face…

He’s shaking as he tries to sit up. Mia rushes to his side.

“It’s alright,” she says quietly. “We took care of it. It’s alright.”

He doesn’t know what they said or what they did. From that day on his father never touches him again.

 

***

 

Leo is twenty one and he still flinches.

When George Millican reaches out to touch him he rears away, remembering a time when every gesture like that meant pain and there was never any reason why.

He’s ashamed a second later and tries to brush it off. But Max sees, of course.

He brings it up that night when they’re huddled together in the house, close enough to keep out the cold.

“You flinched away from George,” Max says, his voice ringing out clear as a bell. “Were you afraid of him?”

“No,” Leo says automatically, and then considers the futility of lying to Max. His little brother always knows.

“It was a reflex,” he says at last.

“From Dad?” Max asks and Leo goes rigid. He doesn’t want to talk about this. They never have before.

Max must feel him tense up.

“Sorry Leo,” he says softly and Leo relaxes again. It’s only Max. And a part of him has always wanted to know…

“Yes, from Dad. What did… what did you say to him to make him stop?”

Max doesn’t hesitate. It’s as if he’s been waiting all these years for Leo to just ask.

“We said we would go to the press and tell them everything. Dad always hated attention. And Niska said she’d break his legs, but that wasn’t planned.”

Leo laughs a little and then begins to cry.

Max puts his arm around him, pulling him closer. Leo buries his face in Max’s shirt and sobs like the child he was never allowed to be. Max rocks him, gently, without saying a word.

“I never knew why,” Leo says eventually, when his eyes are finally dry. “I still don’t.”

“I’m not sure he knew why either,” Max says softly. “But that’s no excuse.”

Leo rests his head on Max’s shoulder, suddenly worn out. There are so many things that don’t make sense; he’s weary with it.

And then Max pats his hand and Leo is reminded that his brother isn’t one of them. That his siblings loved him enough to protect him back then and he knows they’d do the same thing now.

“We’ll find Mia soon,” Max says into the darkness. “I promise.”

“I know,” Leo says. “I trust you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
